god made stars
for starving poets

when they look up
they forget
how hungry they are

    ~mce

They tell me
Something about me is glowing
These days:
They want to know
If I'm working hard
To polish myself
So the world can see my shine,
Or if the light comes from within?

It's neither;
I tell them.
It's so easy being happy
When you're a mirror
Reflecting the glimmering
Beauty of our world.
You just first have to see it.

She had been at sea for three decades
her first voyage at age eighteen
a week after her marriage
in the year of our Lord 1883

She married a sailing man
captain of his own ship
handsome, bearded and tall
a fine commander of his men
as they searched the sea for whales

She loved life at sea
and could imagine no other
the motion of the ship
the sounds of the rigging and the sails
the quiet companionship
with her husband every evening

She was beloved by her husband’s men
whom she mothered well
having had no sons of her own
but nurtured and healed
patched and sewed
bloodied and broken hearts and men

Often she came out on deck
for she knew when they would find them
and though she was in the stern
and the lookout was high in the crow's nest
she saw many whales they missed

She thrilled each time she saw them
awed by their sheer size
marveling at their strength
humbled by their beauty
careful to hide her feelings

Sometimes she could feel
when a whale would blow
and she would call to the first mate
so the men looked at her
as the whale passed unseen

Most times she silently prayed
willing the lookout to search
the wrong spot of ocean
and felt again the pang
of disloyalty to her husband
for he commanded a whaling ship

But then the lookout's call came
"Thar she blows!"
and the men sprang to action
taking after the whale in longboats
while she escaped below

She had seen before the killing
she would not watch again
too many whales succumbed
to exploding harpoons
and a death horrifyingly cruel

And she wondered
what would happen
if only whales could scream . . .

Dance like nobody is watching
Because they aren't
except for me
and I am far too inside myself
To think much of it

The first in over sixty years
The whooping cranes are living wild
Now one young pair has laid an egg
And, too, with luck, will raise their child

They near Kissimmee were released
Beating the odds, survived to breed
A ray of hope they might increase
And ***** the armor of human greed

But cranes need water as do we
As still we pump the wetlands dry
Our chains of lakes sprout fat resorts
The river of grass condemned to die

Yet dare we dream we might reverse
This harsh inflicted damage done
Still apathy is our nation's curse
Which battles none has ever won

Today I cheer the whooping cranes
Who still have hope that they might see
Upon some far and distant day
Their offspring's offspring flying free

Are you so unused to the way love tastes
That you smother it in salt?

Keep your bitterness to sharpen your palate,
Your senses are dulled, and your flavours uninspired.

Feed, then, on that which makes you salivate
You lust only for that which you have lost.

I will no longer feed you pity.
I am too busy feasting, partaking of joy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I was small, for me
     you always stood tall
taught me to look for shadows
     on the dead leaves of fall.

In the illusive bends of the road
     you were always my constant landmark
when misguided by night's cold breeze
     your light guided me in the dark

Now, taller buildings surround the place
   the columns support just a perishable lie
but you remain my perpetual pillar throughout
     holding up my life under this vast clouded sky.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I remember that evening
when you were love-drunk,
freely swinging in the park.
Giddy with some fantasy
or maybe you knew
with whom you were involved.
We stayed awake all night,
just two kids with nothing going on.

I remember us sneaking out.
It was much easier for me.
My dad just didn't care.
I could come and go as I pleased.
You had to do the sneaking
through your window
when the lights went out.
There was a trailer
at the bottom of your property,
our little shelter from the world.

I remember eddies of cigar smoke
whirling in the mouth of an open cave.
We sat together at the entrance.
There was an easy tranquility
with a slightly skewed view.
You wished that we could stay forever,
but I was more concerned
with heading out anew.

You saw me change in many ways
and I wonder what that did to you.

I found myself buried deep within the womb of creation
Lost, I climbed through the mud of life
Pulling myself up on the bones of the ancients
I broke through to the light, and heard the earth cry
Rise, Woman, Rise

I looked upon the face of the eternal
Reaching upward, I tried to touch the sky
So with my feet planted firmly in the past
I grew toward the future, bridging both earth and divine
And in me, the words rose once more,
Rise, Woman, Rise

After I had bridged the heavens,
After I had delved through the mud
I branched out towards the stars surrounding
Souls glittering in the lonely sky
Beckoned by a need, I reached to them
But just out of reach, they twinkled distantly
When a single answer I heard them call
Rise, Woman, Rise

And from my roots, I grew down deeper
And from my arms, I reached out high
With my fingers, stretched out longingly
Glancing over them, I swept the sky
Fingers clasped my own in their hands
Pulling me towards their brilliant light
Connected, I am tied to the universe
Woven into the web of life
And now, when I see another reaching,
I cry out the words that brought me here,
*Rise, Woman, Rise

This is for a friend whose Facebook status on the day after the sickest **** case in Delhi 2012 was,
"thank god I'm ugly,
No boy wants to be seen with me,
Men look through me,
I'm invisible,
There's nothing appealing about my body but I'm happy,
I'm not beautiful so thank you god for the freedom you have bestowed upon me,
I WALK FREE"
7 LIKES, 2 shares and 4 comments
Her father: my daughter is the prettiest
Her brother: there's no-one prettier than my princess
Me: its not about the face my friend, animals don't know the difference, we live in the world where even goats and pigs serve as *** slaves + sperms don't seek paradise
She: read between the lines

This is for the high school hotties and plastic beauties who are miles away from the reality,
This is for the teenage wankers and middle aged ****** whose definition of beauty is ****
This is for the poets who use pulchritudinous for a woman's body and immaculate for her skin
This is for the ad agencies who try to convince us that being not fair is being ugly
This is for the authors of bed time stories where ugly characters don't get a kiss from the prince charming
This is for the walking x-ray machines who don't know my friend but know what the size of her ******* is


This is for Facebook cuties and instagram ducklings tormenting my friend with their selfies
This is for the movie industries that keep telling my friend that she'll remain a sidekick
This is for the daily soaps selling stories of moms who do not exist
This is for the celebrities,
Lost in the labyrinth of self obsession
Who cannot face themselves without their masks on
They will never find their way out of it

This is for the bullies who never spared her a peaceful stroll
This is for the organizers of the beauty pageant never held for the soul

My friend was lost in the immense chasm of despair
Scars on her wrists screamed how much she hated herself
Bloodshot eyes sang tales of her sleepless nights
But, she gave birth to her new self everytime she failed to die
Like, three failed suicide attempts made her fall in love with herself
These days, she holds her breath for seconds just to make herself believe that her life is not worthless

This is for the world holding onto fleeting beauty and letting go of everything worth grasping
MY Friend Is Beautiful
Her beauty does not give pleasure to your senses
Nothing pulchritudinous and not immaculate
Its something intangible, something only visible to a good soul- something that will never fade- something real
My friend is beautiful